Acid Rain
by dark wings alias raat ke rani
Summary: before schwarz, we were assigned the lowest job ever in Eszet... we sold experimental drugs to people and examined them... Schu's POV
1. Traumhändler

ACID RAIN

Summary: "It's been such a long time, isn't it?" I continued the conversation, "Drug dealing. We've been busy killing people lately and it's a surprise that we're now selling drugs for Eszet. You remember we were selling drugs, don't you? The Traumhändler, my first group with you?" I asked him. -- Schu's POV.

Disclaimer: None of these are mine, including Hecate (name of a goddess of darkness - I don't even know how to pronounce it!!) and Diablo (taken from El Pollo Diablo, hehehe)... Schuldig, Crawford, Nagi, Farfarello, Eszet (sorry, I just don't like to see it written as SS) and all other Weiss Kreuz characters both mentioned and unmentioned in this story belong to Koyasu Takehito/Tsuchiya Kyokou/Project Weiss.

My comments: I was watching Ananda Lewis Show about drug abuse and I suddenly had a bursting idea to write this fic. Beg you pardon if you find that I make mistakes about the drugs or the symptoms and all. I've never touched them and never even see them. I never even smoke cigarette (well, aside from second-hand smoke off course).... I took the informations from encyclopedias and well, please do correct me if I'm wrong.... and oh... sorry if you find myself writing in third person... this fic has not been beta-read yet.... 

"text" -- conversations  
//text// -- telepathic conversation or thoughts from other persons  
_text_ -- Schuldig's mind talking to himself

To Quince... sorry again... it's another new fanfic... I got stuck on My Family though I re-read it all the time. ^__^

Stay cool, stay clean... and enjoy the fic!!

Chapter One: Traumhändler

I gazed from one corner to another, watching people dancing. _This is a very classy club_, I thought. The dance was not those crowding and jumping up and down to some accelerated beat and shower of light. They were doing ballroom dance to a lulling music. This was not the place I really belong but I had to stay here anyway.

I tilted my head and my sight stopped at figures of men sitting at the bar, not very far from my table. They seemed to be talking business. They were all well-dressed, silk ties, well-pressed shirts, and woolen suits. One of them was wearing buttery colored suite. That figure turned his face and sent me a gaunt smirk. I knew that he was asking me to approach. 

_So the deal was made_, I told myself and rose from the leather coach. I strode my legs to the bar. The three other men turned to look at me as the man gestured and pointed at me. He was telling them about me. I could hear his voice faintly, "That man will show you the merchandise."

I gave them a slight nod as I stopped there. "This way, gentlemen," I said, moving my hand and asked them to follow me. We walked through the kitchen door to an alley in the back of the club. 

The alley was dim and it was deserted, very unlike the front façade of the club which seemed to be gloriously illuminated with little yellow bulbs and decorated with first rate frilly decorations to resemble baroque salons. It looked cheesy for someone from Europe like me, but perhaps these Asians just love those foolish imitations. The man with the cream colored suit closed the door behind him after he made sure that nobody was following us. 

I stopped and waited for his further instruction.

"Crawford-san," one of the men, a stubby looking man with very small eyes said to that man, "When are you going to show us the merchandise?" He asked impatiently as I showed no signs of movements. 

"Yes," Crawford replied with his deep, calm voice. There was some kind of charm in that voice that seemed to make the stubby man shrunk a bit for daring himself to ask. "Definitely," he turned to me and nodded. I suppose he was making sure that there would be nothing to interrupt our transaction. What bless to have the foresight!

I pulled out a small packet from my pocket and presented it to the three men. "Delirium," I heard my own voice said, "Synthetic hallucinogen, stronger than LSD and can be taken in any ways you wished, either inhaled, injected, or orally. And," I added with a grin on my face, "Unlike other kinds of hallucinogen, this one make sure that you get addicted after several times of consuming, depending on how you take it. That will make sure that you get customers at all times, as soon as you get some addicts in your hands." 

I handed them the small packet. "You are free to get a one-shot. But let me advise you something, you'd better not touch this too much unless you want your business to ruin." I sniggered, "The more you take this, the more you will be dependent on this. And I believe you don't want to see yourself turning from a dealer to a user, do you? And we just hate to loose such a client like you are, Yamikaze-san."

I had a funny feeling that Crawford gave a slight snort on my words. _My Bradley dear, you never know the joy of taking drugs_, I thought, without letting any of it slipped out from my brain, _that's why you can always forbid me to touch them so easily. You are just so… sober._

Ah yes, from all four, I seemed to be the only one dirty with drugs. Nagi and Farfarello might have killed people at earlier age than me, but they both were clean. Well, except that Farfarello had to take tranquilizers every now and then, which caused him not to touch alcohol either, he was very clean. Crawford was out of question, drug was never a thing for him, except as merchandise to sell. He didn't even smoke! He may drink a bit on some occasions, but he was always in control. The only one that seemed to become his addiction was caffeine and work. 

"Then I will take your advice to not touch it," said Yamikaze-san. But he took the packet from my hand anyway and started to observe it, judging whether he wanted to continue with the transaction or not. "Can you guarantee that I will be the only one selling this stuff in this town?" he asked.

This time Crawford stepped forward and explained in a very polite yet threatening manner, "Yamikaze-san, I have told you before about under what kind of circumstances this deal is made. If you don't want to continue this deal, well, fine, there are other people who are interested in this business. You might be the highest bidder tonight, but I would go with the second best if it brought me more luck."

"Ah, Crawford-san, you don't change a bit." Yamikaze laughed as he patted Crawford's shoulder. I could be sure that Crawford would love to strike a bullet through that stubby head, but his face showed no emotions. The man continued, "Yes, yes, I can understand perfectly your thought, but I need to be sure that I can run a monopoly on this Delirium, at least in this town."

"You can play monopsony all the way you like with me, Yamikaze-san, but I'm the one who run the monopoly here, in Japan." Crawford spat. He seemed to loose control a bit, or was it just a show to threaten the Japanese? I knew the man too well that I could be sure that he was only threatening, Crawford never went with merely the highest bidder, he went with the ones he was sure would buy his merchandise. 

We drove straight to Tokyo after the business. Crawford was on the steering wheel as usual. He was silent. It wasn't so surprising; I was the one who usually talk along the ride. He was only giving "yes" or "no" for answers. But I was a bit silent tonight. I let myself gazed at him intensely until he got bothered and asked me without even taking his eyes from the road. 

"Why are you looking at me that way?" He asked in such disturbed tone that I nearly laughed hearing. 

"Nothing. I was only thinking…."

"And?"

"I thought I heard you laughed when I showed them that drug. Am I right?"

"No." 

And we were silent again. I kept on looking at him. I'm still wondering how he got to make me stopped using drugs. I remembered that he was the first one who introduced me with the sentence I said earlier to the stubby little man and his bodyguards. "You don't want to see yourself turning from a dealer to a user, do you?" he said then. And it was a very long time ago.

I had just been working for Eszet then, and one of my first jobs was selling drugs in pubs along Mediterranean shores. Farf and Nagi were not in the team then, and instead, we had a young woman named Hecate and a Spanish teenager named Diablo. They were no real names anyway. Crawford was the only one who kept using his real name. 

Drug was Eszets' biggest source of income. It was some kind of easy money. Easy to come and easy to get, easy to loose as well. Everybody seemed to need some escapism from life and drugs can deliver them some ways. Opioids for those who wanted to neglect pain, hallucinogens for those who want to have a comfort in distorting their real life into the world of imaginations, sedatives if you want to calm your brain – the kind I chose to use, to stimulants to be able to dance all night long. You name what kind of euphoria you'd like to get, and I could prescribe you what kind of drug you need.

"It's been such a long time, isn't it?" I continued the conversation. 

"From what?"

"Drug dealing. We've been busy killing people lately and it's a surprise that we're now selling drugs for Eszet. You remember we were selling drugs, don't you? The Traumhändler, my first group with you?" I asked him.

"Your first task. Yes. Why?"

"Do you remember Hecate and Diablo?"

He nodded unenthusiastically. "Those idiots!" he murmured. 

_Idiots, Brad?_ I wondered. For Crawford they might have been idiots, but I had a different perspective on them. _No, they were no idiots, they were just unlucky ones._

I remembered Hecate and Diablo as lively and reckless people when we were handed our first mission ever. I was just entering my legal age and so was Diablo. Hecate was a bit older from us. She was about Crawford's age then. No, no, a bit older I supposed. The three of us got along very well. We loved the pubs, we loved the beach, and we loved the fun. Diablo loathed Crawford very much, first because he was being bossy over the others, but most of all because he thought that the man who was driving beside me tonight didn't know anything about having fun. 

Hecate, on the other hand, told me once she had a certain interest in that man. She said that Crawford would give enough security for anyone under his wings. She bragged about Crawford being a good husband. Of course she was just drunk when she said that. She never really meant that. If she did, she would have joined us with Schwarz. 

I could still recall the way Crawford was dressed by then. Of course he had not had the habit of wearing that creamy colored Armani suits. He was a bit more casual, though his outfits were always tidy and clean. I remembered his usual jeans and sneakers and white t-shirt covered with pale colored shirt. Always pale colored. I stole the reason out of his head once, he seemed to have this ridiculous thought, "if the good guys don't always wear white, then why not let the evil ones wear white?" Pretty stupid for a man like Crawford, but I liked his twisted thought.

I had not changed much since that day. Still wearing tight leather pants and white shirt with my lucky bandana to control my hair a bit. Diablo was not so different from me in look, although his hair was bluish black and was cut carelessly by himself every two or three months, giving himself a strange aura of self desertion. Hecate was a blond and tanned woman, much too ripe for her age. She had these enormous boobs that always attracted men's desire to touch them, and she knew well how to wear them. She was beautiful, but that was all.

"I remember you always failed to sell anything," I mused. Yes, everybody had failed at least once in a lifetime, including Crawford. I noticed him glaring at me, threatening me not to tell anyone about anything about that. It didn't need to be verbal, his mind was constantly emerging some kind of "I would kill you if that story reach other persons aside from me and you" sentences. 

"And the three of us used to tease you for that," I continued.

"No you didn't," Crawford finally said something, "You never teased me at all. All you dared to do was sneaking out nasty words when you're drunk, but none of you were bold enough to say so when you're sober." He smirked, "That, Schuldig, does not count as teasing."

"OK, you win," I grudged, though I still wore a faint smirk on my lips. "But really, you're only good playing with the high class."

"I am high class."

"Ch!" I spat. I didn't know how he could beat me in words, making me wordless to give him a counter attack. But he always won if he meant it to, and I was never able to reply back. And some part of me, though unwillingly, had respected him for that. 

And we gathered there, in our little bungalow, somewhere in Spain, collecting the money we got from our little transactions. Even a tiger had to become a toddler before it reached its hunting age, and so were we. The Eszets seemed to give us small tasks on our first jobs, and being a drug dealer is just one of the lowest and filthiest jobs available.

"How 'bout ya, Brad?" Hecate asked Crawford. 

It was our first weekend after we were assembled together by the Eszet and being named as Traumhändler, with Hecate as our leader. She was the most trusted by Eszet's oracle. It wasn't a surprise, Crawford was sometimes rebellious in his own manner. He wanted to be the leader, not this small group's leader, but Eszet's leader. 

Crawford reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of money. His face was straight and emotionless. And he put the bundle in front of him without a word. In fact he had not been saying anything at all. He was the second person in the group, being in second rank of seniority. I supposed Crawford and Hecate were in the same group before that, and though they still also had to sell little packets of acid, they were also responsible to keep an eye on me and Diablo.

Hecate took the bundle and counted every note in it and dumped it into a small tin container filled with money. "You, Brad, I think ya have to learn from our youngsters. I can't believe they sell more than ye do!"

Crawford was silent. He seemed to ignore the blond woman. She was complaining in some dialects that I couldn't understand. I wasn't willing to read her mind anyway. I was contented enough to have beaten Diablo in selling my merchandise.

"No, Brad," I recalled, "Hecate was bold enough to even yell at you then."

Crawford snorted but he gave no comment. The man kept on concentrating at the street. His left hand let go from the steering wheel and pushed his glasses into place, a slight sign that he was thinking or covering up something. Yes, I noticed that he often did it without purpose when he had a certain intention. He had done that too then.

The man with the pale green shirt in front of me raised his hand to his face and fixed his glasses on his nose. "I exceed the minimum limit," he insisted, "And I have other things to my concern."

"Oh, don't be such a brag, Bradley!" she took some notes and threw it right onto Crawford's face. "I know it's yer appearance that makes people distrust ya. Ye look silly with that shirt! I mean, would a drug dealer dressed in such ... solemn colors!" 

"There's nothing wrong with the way I dress," Crawford stated firmly. He stood up from the floor and headed to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. He still had to work on the accounting for the small group, making reports on how the business went. He really had other things to concern aside of selling the thing, he was also responsible on the way it went. 

The bungalow was small and it was far from the luxurious apartment we got here in Japan. There were only two bedrooms. The smaller one was turned into some kind of office by Crawford, which also served as his bedroom. No one was allowed to enter without his permission. The bigger one had a king-sized bed that we, namely me, Diablo, and Hecate shared each night. The bathroom was sort of cramped into a small room much alike with those in student housing in Japan and the kitchen was very small.

"Come on," the woman continued, "Look at Schuldig, he's only been here for a week and he's already makin' money than ya! Ye really should change yer appearance, Brad!"

"Can I ask you a question, Brad?" I chuckled at my soon-to-be-spoken question.

"Sure."

"Was it Hecate that made you change your clothing preferences?"

He looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Don't you remember that she used to complain about the way you look? You know, those shirts and your haircut and your glasses and all?"

"Yes?"

I began to loose my patience. "So," I asked, "What's the answer?"

"No."

Mein Gott, how I hate his answers! 

Crawford acted as if the woman didn't exist. He simply picked the money Hecate threw at him earlier, put them into the tin container and picked it to his room. His other hand had a cup of black coffee in it. I helped him open his bedroom door and he didn't bother to thank me at all.

"Man! What's wrong with that man?" I grumbled.

"Never mind about him, Schuldig," Diablo bragged, "He's just an Eszet dog. He'd obey whatever they told him. I think he'd better serve as an accountant rather than selling drugs!"

Hecate gave a merry laugh. "You're right, Diablo!" She rolled over the parquet covered floor. Her hand reached to the black haired and played with the flocks of bluish hair. "He's better of bein' an accountant than wastin' himself with us." She tilted her head to me, "Schuldig dear, can you pass me the bottle?" She reached her hand as I handed her a bottle of beer.

She took a gulp and continued. Her voice was lower than before, "But mind ya, Diablo, even a dog can bite the hand that feeds." She let out a shrill laugh. I was sure she was already high on alcohol. "And he's no dog, Diablo, he's a tiger. And a tiger is more fierce than a dog!"

Hecate unbuttoned Diablo's shirt seductively and the man was willing to help her. And I didn't need a second invitation when I caught Hecate winking at me. I shifted forward and started to help the woman freeing herself from her blouse. Never mind about the bed, we didn't even bother to move into the room. The living room was ours anyway. Crawford wouldn't mind as long as he still had his peace in his little room.

"Why are you smiling?" this time, to my surprise, Crawford was the first to ask.

"Nothing," I gave a short answer, feeling as if I could make a revenge for his short answers to me. The only problem was that he only nodded to my answer and continued driving in silence. Finally I just couldn't fight the urge to speak to him.

"I suddenly remembered how you always left us alone in the living room. You never joined us, didn't you?" I said, though I was sulked to see a faint smile of triumph hanging on his lips. He was mocking me!

"No," he was back into his short answer habit.

I turned my face to the street as I murmured some verbalized curses. 

"Sorry," he said suddenly.

"What is this? Are you mocking me?" I grunted, still gazing to the glowing lines of street lamps from the window. Crawford would never say sorry to anyone. His pride was too high priced for some kind of apology. But I didn't hear his reply so I tilted my head towards him. His face looked grim. There was no trace of his usual sneer.

"You, Hecate, and Diablo were very close," he continued slowly. 

"So?" I demanded an explanation. But just at the moment our car reached the parking lot of our apartment and I just knew that our conversation had to be stopped there. I drew out a sigh and got off the car, heading to the elevator. Both of us were silent. Crawford said nothing and his face was back into his flat expression. 

- to be continued - 

Gee... I hope you can understand about the time setting.... or do I have to lay-out the paragraphs once again?


	2. Ghost from the Past

Thanks for reading my fic... ^__^ ...I'm happy to see you again...!

Disclaimer: None of these are mine, including the names Hecate (name of a goddess of darkness) and Diablo (taken from El Pollo Diablo, hehehe)... and off course Schuldig, Crawford, Nagi, Farfarello, Eszet (sorry, I just don't like to see it written as SS) and all other Weiss Kreuz characters both mentioned and unmentioned in this story belong to Koyasu Takehito/Tsuchiya Kyokou/Project Weiss.

"text" -- conversations  
//text// -- telepathic conversation or thoughts from other persons  
_text_ -- Schuldig's mind talking to himself

Chapter Two: Ghost from The Past

I kept on wondering why Crawford said in the car then. We never talked anything about the matter. We were all busy with our tasks, and Crawford wouldn't like me to ask him about it in front of Nagi or Farf. These two juniors were not allowed to hear about this. I wouldn't like it either.

I put myself to sit at a corner of a noisy pub. The live band was a bit out of tune, but nobody seemed to notice. Everybody was busy doing their own business. I watched the crowd moving to the rhythm. I looked to left and right to see if our new drug, Delirium, had gained anything.

It was very much alike the way it was in Spain. Only, it's a fifteen year old Nagi who sat beside me now. No Hecate, and no Diablo. I recalled we sometimes sold experimental drugs from the Eszet. They're sold on bargain, very cheap, and we had to keep watch on our customer. We had to report about the drugs effect to the headquarter, off course through Crawford's hand. If the drug had been a success, it would be produced in bigger amount and sold through groups of higher rank, who were taking control over a certain country, just like the way Schwarz now, ruling over Japan.

Selling to the customer at the end of the chain was no more my concern. We had no smaller ranked groups, the trial groups, in Japan. Groups like Traumhändler were put only in Europe because it would be easier for Eszet to take control. Far away lands like Asia belonged to the second highest groups – the highest was the three siblings in the Alps. Each group handled one country.

My eyes rolled to Nagi. He just sat there calmly with a notebook on his lap, typing something I didn't want to think about. It's only the two of us here. Crawford was somewhere doing business while Farfarello was left in his chamber; he refused to take his tranquilizers. I watched the boy's fingers dancing on the keyboard. I could be mistaken but it sounded as if the click-clack sound from the keys were on the same beat as the music. I mused if it was the way Nagi enjoyed being here. 

Although Crawford and I had not changed much, I suddenly realized that Schwarz and Traumhändler were far from being similar. Hecate and Diablo were the kinds of people who smiled a lot; they lighten up each moment with silly talks or deeds. The bungalow was never silent. We would go to the beach together and played Frisbee or buried ourselves in the sand waiting for sunset. And the three of us would dance all night long when we went to clubs to sell drugs. 

I moved my eyes away from Nagi and stood up. "I wanna stretch my muscles a bit," I told the Japanese boy as I walked away. The boy only let out a slow mutter and he continued typing. I suddenly was in the middle of the crowd. _For old time's sake_, I thought as I blend my mind with the rhythm. _For old time's sake…_.

"That was great!" I slumped myself on the couch. Hecate and Diablo followed my lead and took a seat. Crawford was already there. In fact, I supposed he never left the couch after we arrived here, except of going to the bar to get something to drink.

My body was sweating like hell and my heart beat fast. I grabbed my mug of beer and took a big gulp. "Don't you wanna hit the floor, Brad?" I asked, taking a cigarette Hecate offered me.

"No," answered Crawford in his usual business manner, "we're not here to have fun." I saw that he glared on our cigarettes. Crawford didn't smoke. But if someday he'd ever died of lung dysfunctions, I'd probably be the one to blame. I blew a puff to his face, merely to distract him from his serious attitude.

"Come on, you never have fun!" Diablo joined in, encouraging Crawford to take a step on the dance floor. "You're not gonna die only because of a dance." He laughed, "Or are you afraid of dancing, Crawford? Can you not dance?" The black haired asked menacingly.

"I don't dance because I don't want to," said Crawford calmly. He lifted his bloody marry and took a sip. "Now," he said slowly, "I've just got a new drug from the headquarter. They want us to get some samples for them." He took out a small Film tube from his shirt pocket and put it on the table. "There are only six of them tonight. We need to get at least three regular user for like, a month. I think you can handle it."

"And what kind of drug is this?" asked Hecate. She opened the tube and eyed six little yellow pills inside. 

"It's basically amphetamines, but there are other substances there. They told me nothing."

"'Kay," Hecate divided the pills into four groups. Two groups consisted only one pill. "These are for you, Brad, and for you, Diablo," and then she handed me two pills, "Schuldig, you have to sell the two of these. It's an honor, because you sell more than them." She then put the other two pills inside her pocket. She always sold the more than anyone. "Let's go!"

We cared nothing when we dance. It's all within ourselves. When your reflects came into the same rhythm wit the music and you can feel euphoria from the people surrounding you. That's when you're starting to enjoy yourself with the movement. Letting you mind escape to a certain form of trance. Body brushed with body, tongue twisting with tongue. Suddenly I felt somebody slipped a piece of paper into my mouth. 

_Scheiß'!_

I stopped and hurried spitting that paper away from my mouth. Acid. I knew it from the way it tasted. My body shuddered and I suddenly lost my appetite to dance. I dragged myself back to the leather couch where Nagi was still typing. He lifted his head. "You're back? I thought you're gonna be there for a long time."

I shook my head. "N-nein…. Das war genug." I didn't know why I became so nervous that I answered with my native language. The boy seemed to realize that I was a little bit shaky and he looked at me with concern.

"Are you OK, Schuldig?"

"Yeah. Don't worry." I sat down and soon enough I was already gathering myself together. It was the drug that made me nervous. I had promised Crawford I was never going to touch drugs anymore. But this time, it was not my fault, I didn't take it on a purpose and I had not sucked it enough to make such dangerous effect on me. 

I touched my lips. The acid taste still lingered there. But it was not Delirium for sure. I knew how the drug tasted like. Although Crawford had threatened me not to get a try on it, he let me try to have a taste of it. That is only putting a very, very small amount on your tongue and then wash my mouth.

"You want me to get you something to drink?" Nagi asked again. I didn't notice that he was still looking at me with deep concern in his eyes. 

Crawford didn't realize we sometimes took our own merchandise. I couldn't recall well who was the first to steal our own goods. Perhaps it was Diablo. We were having a party and being already high on alcohol, he suddenly asked if we wanted to liven up the party a bit. The next time I knew, the three of us was starting to nick on our own commodities.

It was a safe play and we even paid with our own money at first. Hecate, Diablo, and I used to party in our bedroom. It was the safest place. Crawford seemed to be disgusted to even peep into the room. Beside he got all the money he wanted. He wouldn't care.

We could take our shots as soon as Crawford locked himself inside his so-called office. The three of us had our own reasons to take the drugs but we never told one another. It's private business. What mattered most was we were having fun together. It was so damn good, when the chemicals started to affect our brains and soothed our thoughts. Either it made us feel numb or alert, it was just fine. Everything seemed to fine. And we had our peace.

We took safe dose every time. We didn't want anyone to know that we were taking them. The Eszet would definitely be pissed off if they knew that we took our own merchandise. And especially we didn't want Crawford to know. He would make a report to Eszet. 

We covered our regular consumption perfectly at first, but not long after we began to crave for more. We just needed to get more. And the drugs had also affected our appearance. We just didn't care if we looked like shabby ragged doll every time we went to the pub, and we just hid ourselves from the sun. And it was the time for Crawford to notice what we did. He was furious when he interrogated us.

"You are taking drugs, aren't you?" he demanded for answer, but the three of us merely shook our heads. Nobody said anything.

"Damnit! You are clearly showing that you are…," he gritted his teeth out of his temper, "Look, I know how it looks like when somebody's taking them. I mean, look at yourself!" he spat through, "Are you saying that I misjudge you just because the three of you seemed to be malnutrition?" He struck his hair with his hand. "Merchandise is not for sale. Do I make myself clear?"

"Brad, we never take our merchandise," I answered lazily. Indeed we did not just take them, we bought them from ourselves. 

"Schuldig's sayin' the truth, Bradley," Hecate said as she leaned back to the couch languidly. "And I am still the leader in this group, Brad. I don't wanna hear you braggin' about us takin' drugs behind yer back."

"You – cannot – fool me," he stated. There was a light in his eyes that told me, he was not going to buy what ever she said. "I'm an oracle, Hecate. I – know."

"No, Bradley, ye're wrong." Hecate smirked. Her eyes glinted and I felt her mind started to invade Brad's. She winked at me to ask for a help. Hecate was also a telepath, and she was very good. There was not many telepath who could gain trust from the Eszet oracle as her. These two powers never seemed to be able to work well together.

"We do not steal the drugs," I said while calmly invading his head.

"You are invading me," he muttered as he tried to seal his mind.

"Forget about the seal, Brad," Diablo voiced. He was no telepath, and he was not an oracle either. He was a fire starter, but he, just like any other people in Eszet, was also good in sensing when a telepath was about to invade someone. "Hecate and Schuldig are the strongest telepaths of our generation."

"You are not to erase my memory," Crawford noted. He looked more tensed than usual. Of course, taking care of two telepaths at the same time was not an easy matter. He kept on giving counter thoughts on what we tried to plant in his mind.

"Never mind about our business, Brad," Hecate voiced again, both in her mind and on her lips, "As long as you have the money, that shouldn't be a matter to you, no? Brad, we do not take our merchandise. Keep that in mind."

"No!" the short haired man insisted, "I can see it clearly that you are using them. You can't deny that. I have seen you, each of you, sneaking them behind my back and partied inside your room."

"We were not sneakin', Bradley. And it's legal."

"Don't you feel tempted to try?" I asked. My hand was moving out front and I waved a small packet of heroin before his eyes. "Don't you want to try, Brad?"

He slapped my hand and the packet flew to somewhere in the middle of the crowd. "I am not taking it. I'm not turning myself from a drug dealer into a drug abuser." His voice was rising into higher frequency. He jerked up.

Ha! Emotional person was always the easiest to handle. Hecate and I suddenly hurled him with thoughts and commands to make him forget our conversation and to make sure that he wouldn't notice anything despite of what we did. His eyes widened for a split seconds and he collapsed, making a loud bumping voice as his body hit the table and sending the bottles and glasses away from it and crashed on the floor.

"It's all right," I said to the curious crowd as I sent them my thoughts, "He's just drunk."

Crawford was unconscious for a couple of days before he came back to his senses. After then he hardly ever talked to us. There was a mix of fear and anger in his eyes that perhaps he couldn't understand himself. He hardly stayed in the bungalow. Or if he did, he would keep himself inside his room, while we were partying until morning came. 

He kept himself straight. I wondered how he could survive our invasion. With two telepaths trying to break down your head and brain washed it, I can't believe any human being would survive. He still never touched drugs, and to be honest, soon he began to be our only source of income. The three of us were too busy with the clouds in our heads. We had enough supply of drugs. And slowly but surely, we started to steal our own merchandise and fell into rapid degradation. 

I always felt terrible to remember those times. Each time the drug wore off, I would crave for more. It felt worse than hell. My body was shaking badly and I felt unease. There was always a feeling of nausea each time I moved myself and I felt like the voice I could hear through my telepathic ability became several times louder than usual. And these symptoms only ceased to occur when I had had my dose. 

I knew Hecate and Diablo felt the same as I did. If not, they would have been able to stop. They were just as bad as I was, if not worse. Diablo was the worst user. He kept on increasing his dose. Hecate did try some of the experimental drugs. Some of these experimental ones were good when you're under its influence but most of them gave worse symptoms of withdrawal rather than the common ones.

I saw her kept on vomiting and had a nosebleed soon after the drug wore off. And she would soon grab another dose of any drugs to sooth her trouble. We seemed to be just fine when we were under influence. We could still go to pubs and sell several stuffs. But other than that, our world was closed into a 12x14 foot square room with dark draperies to avoid excessive light from outside, where we held our flights to transendence. 

_And everything was alright. Everything was alright…_.

"Schuldig!"

I felt a hand shaking my body. I tried to open my eyes but my head felt like tearing apart. There was a rush of panic going in and out of my head but I could tell that the thought didn't belong to me. I felt my body shook again and a loud voice rang through both my ears and my mind. 

"Schuldig! Open your eyes, damnit!" 

I forced my eyes to open and a wave of light started to pour into my sight. I saw a figure of man bending over me and I became aware of a burning pain on my cheeks. The man slapped me again while he kept on calling my name, trying to bring me into consciousness. 

My vision came to focus for a few milliseconds before it blurred out again. It was Crawford. And the shaking became even harder. I felt another slap on my cheek and the voice became louder. The noises of panic rushing in and out of my head again, only this time it was so distinct that it made my head felt worse.

//Don't die on me! Damnit! Schuldig! Schuldig! I know you can hear me! Open your eyes!//

//Damn! What am I supposed to do? Call the emergency! Wait, I can't call the emergency. They would tell the police and the whole operation would be known.//

"Schuldig! Answer me!"

//Why is he not responding? Damn! Godamnit! Why is he not responding?//

//What have they taken? Damnit! What have they taken?! Schuldig! Answer me!//

I tried to open my mouth to tell him to shut up but instead I felt a severe cramp on my stomach and I suddenly had nausea. It made me choke that I just wasn't able to double over. The shaking I had made it all felt worse. I tried to cough to free my airways and I felt warm liquid flowing out from my mouth. 

//God! He's throwing up blood! What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now?//

//Wait… calm down… think of something….//

//Calm down... think... think... think....//

//Put him into a more comfortable position…. Clean his airways….//

I felt my body turned aside and I felt his fingers coming into my mouth to clean out my vomit. 

//Now what? Now what?//

//Think, Brad… think!//

//What have they done? What did they take? If I know, I'll be able to do something. Now, look around… maybe there's something….//

The calmness suddenly disappeared again as I felt my ears grew warm. 

//His ears are bleeding! Damn!//

//Call emergency! Call emergency!//

//Hide all evidence….//

//Call emergency and hide all evidence….//

//Don't leave me, Schuldig! Don't leave me!//

I heard his steps hurried away from me and his thought grew fainter and fainter. 

_Don't leave me…__don't leave_ ... .

I opened my eyes. The TV in the living room was already sending out stripes of grey and white dots on its screen. And its light was flickering through the room, serving as the only source of light. I must have fallen asleep. I kept my head lay on the hand rest. I didn't have any intention to turn it off. 

I sighed. It was only a bad dream. The acid gave me a bad dream. Hecate… Diablo… they both died for overdose and I was the only one to survive. I would have joined them if it wasn't for Brad. 

I read from his report to Eszet that he hurried back to our bungalow just as he saw what was about to happen. He found the three of us scattered on the floor. Hecate was then already dead. Her body was all covered with blood. Bright crimson liquid was gushing from her mouth, ears, nose, and eyes. Her blood vessels were breached. 

Diablo was barely alive though not yet dead then. But he was also bleeding and his skin was swollen. Soon after he lost signs of life. I was the only one showing distinct signs of life though my heart beat so fast and I was badly palpitated. He called the emergency number as soon as he realized that he could do nothing to help me. He cleaned everything, flushing all our merchandise down the toilette and making sure that at least his name was clean in front of the authorities. 

I was put in jail hospital for several months treatment and was sent back to Germany, where I had to face detention from the organization. Not only that I was guilty of consuming our own merchandise, but also of misusing my ability to perform brainwash on our own member for personal desire. To my surprise Crawford stood behind me and asked for his detention because he neglected other members'safety and was not able to maintain the business well, in addition to his weakness of being controlled by other members.

And we were trained to work the filthiest – though being the most priced – job ever. We kill for other people, keeping their sleeves clean while our hands were stained with blood. Crawford was once again paired with me. And then we were joined by Farfarello, and then Nagi… and we moved to Japan.... 

Suddenly the front door opened and Crawford entered the room silently. He strode to the TV, reaching out to turn it off. "You'd better move to your room," he said. His voice was clear and deep as usual. There was no sign of weariness in him, even though he had just been away since very early in the morning. "I know you're not sleeping, Schuldig," he continued without even bother to stop and look at me. 

"Brad," I got up from my position.

"Yes," he stopped at the stair.

"What will you do if I tell you I just had some acid?"

He turned around. "You did not take the acid. You spat it out. I saw," he said and then walked back to his room. "And I'm very glad you did so," his voice was barely audible when he said it and I was quite sure that it was his mind that spoke.

- The End - 

So, what do you think about that? Please write a review.... Flames are welcome... it's pretty cold at night lately... yup... it's even warmer in the rainy seasons... hehe... ^__^


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